Chapter 2 Trial

Sierra POV

I had always  believed Roman my father was the reason he was dead, now  he was sitting across from me, telling me he knew who had ordered the murder.

"You're lying,” the words came out quieter than I intended.

"If I wanted to lie to you, Sierra, I wouldn't have shown you the envelope."

"You expect me to believe you?"

"No."

That answer caught me off guard.

"I expect you to want answers badly enough to listen."

I stared at him. “What do you know?"

"Enough to know your father wasn't killed during a robbery."

"Who killed him?". I asked slamming my hands on the desk.

"I don't know yet."

I  laughed bitterly. “So you don't know."

"I know who arranged it." He said. 

"Then tell me."

Roman's jaw tightened. “Not here."

"Why?"

"Because there are ears in this building that don't belong to me.". He said. 

I glanced toward the locked door. “You expect me to believe you're worried about someone listening?"

"I'm not worried." He pushed away from the desk.

"I'm making sure whoever killed your father doesn't realize you're still searching because your father had been a loyal hand to me."

He walked toward the cabinet in the corner, inside were dozens of files. 

Roman removed a thin black folder and placed it beside the envelope.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Your father's file."

My fingers curled into fists. “You had a file on my father?"

"I've had one for six years."

"Why?"

"Because he worked for me."

I stared at him. “My father wasn't a criminal."

Roman's expression didn't change. “I never said he was."

"You were running an illegal club." I said.

"And your father was repairing motorcycles."

"Then why would he work for you?"

"Because he was good at what he did." He said.

I shook my head. “No, he  hated your club."

Roman looked at me for a long moment. “Did he tell you that?"

"Yes."

"Did he tell you everything?"

The question landed harder than it should have, my father had kept secrets and I knew that.

But I'd always assumed the secrets were about the club but Roman seemed to know there was more.

“What aren't you telling me?" I asked.

"Your father discovered someone was selling information from inside the Vipers."

My stomach tightened. “Information about what?"

"Routes,Names, Safe locations, Accounts."

"And he found out who?". I asked.

"He was close."

"Close isn't an answer."

"No." Roman's voice hardened. “That's why he died."

"Who was he close to?"

Roman didn't answer, Instead he opened the folder.

A photograph slid onto the desk.

My father stood beside a motorcycle, he  looked younger than I remembered.

"When was this?"

"Six months before he died.”

"You knew him that long?” I picked up the photograph.

There was something written on the back.

A date and four words.

She must never know.

"What's this?". I asked.

Roman's face went still. “Put it down."

I looked at him. "What does this mean?"

"Sierra—“

"Why did my father write that?"

"Because he was trying to protect you." He said.

"Everyone keeps saying they were protecting me."

Roman's eyes narrowed. “Who else?"

I said nothing.

"Who told you your father was murdered?"

I looked away.

"Answer me." His voice was louder now.

"I figured it out."

"That's not true."

My eyes snapped back to his. “You knew who I was."

"Not at first."

"When?"

"The first day you walked into my garage."

"You knew?"

"I suspected." He said.

"And you let me stay?"

"Yes." He muttered.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to know who sent you." He said.

"No one sent me."

"Then who taught you to lie this well?"

"My father." The words slipped out.

"You shouldn't have said that”. He muttered. “Because now I know you're more like him than you realize."

I hated the way my heartbeat reacted to his voice. This was the man I had come to destroy and I couldn't allow myself to forget that.

"Give me the name." I demanded. 

"No."

My anger flared. “You just told me you knew who ordered his murder."

"I said I know who helped arrange it."

"Then tell me.”

"Not until I know you're ready." He said.

"Ready?", I slammed my palm against the desk. “My father is dead!"

Roman didn't move. "I know."

"You don't get to decide when I deserve the truth." I said. 

"No." his eyes hardened. “but I do get to decide whether giving you the truth gets you killed."

Before I could answer, someone knocked.

Roman immediately turned toward the door, his entire expression changed.

"Stay here." He said.

I almost laughed. “I'm not one of your employees."

"I know."

He opened the door, a man stood outside…older with grey beard.He looked at Roman and then at me.

"President."

Roman stepped into the doorway. “What?"

The man lowered his voice. “Someone was asking about the new mechanic."

My stomach dropped, Roman's eyes moved toward me.

“Who?" He asked.

"We don't know."

"Description."

"Man in a gray jacket. Left hand tattooed." The man said.

Roman's jaw tightened. “Where is he?"

"He left."

Roman stepped out and closed the door.

I paced room my heart hammering against my ribs…then  I heard voices outside.

Footsteps.

Roman came back inside, his face was different.

"What?"

He walked toward me. “You have to leave."

I blinked.”What?"

"Now."

"Why?"

"Because whoever is looking for you knows you're here."

Roman grabbed his jacket from the chair. “Things changed."

I watched him pull a handgun from the back of his waistband.

"Where are you going?" I asked. 

"To find the man who was asking about you."

"You said I had to leave."

"You do."

"To where then?" I asked. 

Roman looked at me. "With me."

I hesitated. “Why would I trust you?"

"You shouldn't." The answer was almost a whisper. “But right now, I'm the only person between you and whoever killed your father."

He opened the door slowly. I followed him like a dog would follow its owner. 

His hand closed around my wrist. “One more thing." he muttered.

"What?"

"The man who ordered your father's murder..."

He paused. “Isn’t outside this club…he is already inside.”